


Getting the Words Right

by Lazchan



Series: Team Russia Family [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 01:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10232717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Viktor is out of town and Yuuri is left alone with Team Russia





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting to think I need to make a series of Yuuri bonding with Team Russia fics... thoughts? LOL I keep writing them and I have all sorts of ideas.

Yuuri pressed the phone against his ear, nodding along with Viktor's words. "I know, I know—I won't neglect training," he promised. "And you know we'll be watching you at that ice show," he teased. "Yuri's promised to bring popcorn to throw at the screen, since he can't do it in person."

"You wound me, Yuuri," Viktor's voice sounded far away; the connection wasn't that strong and there was a snag in his chest as his voice broke up for a moment before coming in clear again. "You're supposed to tell me that it’s a public viewing of support, not riffing."

Yuuri had to laugh at that and he shook his head, even if Viktor couldn't see it. "You had all your mocking from Yuri before you left," he kept his voice light and teasing. "You know what he thinks about ice shows…" Yuri had said something about 'second-rate skaters and old men' but Yuuri wasn't going to bring up the exact words again. "I just don’t know why I can't come with you…"

"Because you need to train," Viktor said firmly, in what Yuuri thought of as his 'coaching voice' and he couldn't be budged when he was being stubborn like that. "I already committed to this and I'm not going to drag you away from your routine when we have to perfect your jumps." There was a pause and Yuuri could almost see the uncertainty on his face. "You can trust Yakov, Yuuri," his voice was quiet. "And Mila and Georgi and even Yurio," he teased. "They're your rinkmates."

"I know, I know," Yuuri laughed and kept that cheerfulness up, grateful that Viktor couldn't see his face. "I'm sure I'll get plenty of _advice_ from Yuri about how I still suck at jumping."

"Yes, but he still stares at you when you're doing your step sequences, so it all evens out," Viktor laughed. There was more static on the line and a loud mix of noise behind Viktor, cutting off anymore of what he was saying. "I have to go, Yuuri. Remember that … that I love you," he said, voice almost too soft to hear and Yuuri nodded.

"I… I love you, too," he whispered, before the phone went dead and he was left alone in the silence of the apartment, only Makkachin by his side. He looked down at the dog and rubbed her ears. "Well, I guess we have the place to ourselves," he said brightly. It was going to be a long week, but he figured he could keep himself so busy that it'd go quickly.

~

The rink was different without Viktor's presence bolstering his and Yuuri caught the others giving him concerned looks when they thought he couldn't see him. He winced a little; his reaction at the Rostelcom Cup was probably well-known and he wished he could just hide instead of skate. _It would just prove their point, though_. He kept his thoughts to himself and did his warm-ups and skating and tried to tune everyone else out.

He could prove that he could skate without Viktor there— _I've been skating for years without Viktor_ —and it wasn't like Viktor wasn’t going to be home soon enough. As he moved around the rink, he idly listened to Yakov giving instructions to his skaters, concentrating on one at time. Jumps for Mila, less flamboyant gestures from Georgi and for Yurio, more focus on his step sequences. He didn’t get it all, but enough had been repeated that he had been able to pick up the words.

He was in the middle of a step sequence to move into a jump, when he thought he caught his name, but he dismissed it just s quickly. As far as he knew, Yakov and Viktor hadn't worked out any arrangement for coaching this time and it wasn’t worth anything to Yakov to take time away from coaching the Russian Team to focus on the lone Japanese sharing rink time with them. Yuuri really couldn't blame him. _After all, the better his skaters do, the better chance that they have of winning gold._

He heard his name again and this time it was with 'step sequences' involved and he blinked and turned, pausing in his movements to actually look over at the tight group of skaters. He felt awkward and out of place, but Yakov hadn't kicked him out _or_ welcomed him and had only grunted when Yuuri took to the ice. He couldn't deny it was his name _this_ time, not when Yakov was yelling at Yurio and then pointing at him.

"Катание меня остановить?" He hoped he got some of the Russian semi-correct and judging by Yurio rolling his eyes, he hadn't quite gotten the words all in the places they were supposed to be. He flushed and skated closer to the exit anyway; if anything, he could use the excuse that it was time to cool down and let the others take more of the rink.

Yurio stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from moving much further. "Your Russian is still shit, but at least we knew what you were saying." His grip was firm, not letting Yuuri move to the benches. "You can use English with us, katsudon. We all know it and it's easier than your attempt at Russian."

"But at least I'm trying?" Yuuri asked, steadfastly looking anywhere but at the group that was clustered against the rink board. "I can't exactly go around town using English and expect them to understand me."

"In the touristy parts, you can," Mila said cheerfully, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and giving him a hug, smiling brightly the entire time. "It's a good thing you know so much English, Yuuri."

"I spent five years in Detroit," he pushed back his hair with one hand, wanting to reach for his glasses so that he could put the world in focus again, now that he had stopped skating. "I hope I could understand English. It wasn't…it wasn't exactly the best place for people to speak Japanese."

She kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder. "And everyone who really skates speaks it, too! So we can tease you as much as we do little Yuri here," she patted Yuri's arm, who swatted at her and nearly knocked down Yuuri in the process. He ducked out of their grips when he had the chance, shaking his head.

"Was I interrupting something?" he asked slowly, when he realized they were still looking at him. Yuri looked the most annoyed and turned his face away, while Mila took pity on him and explained. "Yakov wants our little Yuri to work on his step sequences and said that he should watch _you_." Her smile was full of mischief.

Yuuri winced and turned to see Yuuri scowling at him and he shook his head. "I—I can't _teach_ that sort of thing, I mean—" he waved his hands and tried to get out his words in a reasonable order. "I just—I wasn't even trying—I was doing a dance routine that…"

With each new sentence, Yuri's scowl deepened. "You weren't even _trying_?" he demanded. "What sort of…" his hands tensed at this side, as if he was resisting the urge to either shove at Yuuri or yank him closer. "Just _skate_ , katsudon. Yakov just wants me to watch what you do."

"You say that so easily," Yuuri muttered, smiling a thank you at Georgi when he handed him a bottle of water. It was a good distraction as well as something he had planned to get before Yuri had blocked his exit. "I can't do it when you're _watching._ " He turned bright red when Yuri stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

"Katsudon… " he said slowly. "Just what is it you _do_ when you skate at competitions?"

"I… " he fumbled with the water bottle and stared down at his skates. He wasn't going to admit how much Yuri intimidated him still. Even if he was the adult, eight years older and more experienced; Yuri's opinion of him mattered more than he was willing to say out loud. "… it's different," he finished, realizing how awkward that sounded.

"Uh huh—" Yuri just shook his head. "Just go and relax and skate. Pretend I'm not here or something," he flushed, annoyed as if he had figured out Yuuri's reasoning. "Maybe you can actually practice your jumps or something, so that you can at least get a decent technical score next time you compete." He was muttering under his breath for the next, but Mila heard and had to cover her mouth to hide her laughter. " _I just skate. I dance and drag people into it. I'm a skating katsudon."_

Yuuri just handed the water bottle back to Georgi and moved back onto the ice, unsure of what Yuri expected of him, but just trying to do what he was doing before. _I can't wait to get back home…_

~

He was resting on the couch with Makkachin over his legs, his computer on his lap and his headphones on. He knew that this was a good apartment and sounded didn't travel that far, but he was too used to thin walls and pounding on them from angry neighbors. He wanted to study his old programs and a notebook next to him was filled with scribbles of what he could do to improve and build on.

He didn't hear the knocking on the door, but his free hand was resting near his phone and he stared down at it as the vibration cut through his thoughts. Viktor wasn't due to call him; he was still in the middle of traveling and they were all going to watch his show tomorrow. "Who….?" He didn’t recognize the number and he put his headphones aside and cautiously picked it up. "кто это?" Maybe it wasn't the most polite of responses, but he was tired.

"Ah! Your Russian is still so cute, Yuuri~!" Mila's voice was bright as it came through the phone and Yuuri found himself relaxing. "You must have learned that one from Yura, though—he's so impolite when he answers the phone."

"We wanted to know why you rushed off so quickly, Yuuri." Her voice held a note of concern. "Did you forget that this was the night the team goes out to eat?" He could picture her pout and the way she ran a hand through her hair when she was thinking of the next thing to say.

"I… no…" he said slowly. _I'm not part of the team, that's why I didn't go… Viktor is part of the team and I only went along because of him._ Yuri had glared each time he had come, even with Viktor's teasing to deflect any truly annoyed comments. Yuuri's stomach had always been in knots during each meal and with Yuri's silent judging, he always ate less than he normally did.

"You didn't forget?" she asked, "then why aren't you here with us?" she demanded. He heard an odd sort of echoing, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.

"I… um—but I'm not—" he put his laptop to the side, patting his lap to get Makkachin to come closer, needing the comfort of the poodle to help him talk himself through the conversation, but Makkachin only went to the door and sniffed. He could dimly hear Yuri in the background, shouting at Mila for being a hag and to hurry up. "Did you ask Yuri?" he asked with a faint laugh. "I think he's looking forward to being with his actual team."

There was a moment of shocked silence and then Yuri's voice came through the phone, loud and annoyed. The echoing sound was louder with his shouting. "Get your ass out here, Katsudon," he shouted and the pounding on the door let him know just where the team was and Yuuri hid his face in his hands for a moment. "Viktor gave his second key to you and I'm not going to get arrested by picking locks to get your sorry, moping self out of the apartment."

"But you will get arrested by making a fuss," Georgi said and Yuuri had to laugh a little. They were making a huge scene and all for him. He got up and gave the dog an absent-minded pat, before he opened the door to see the Russian team there.

Yuri pushed open the door all the way, surveying the room , then settled his gaze on Yuri. "Good, you're not moping away in here," he said after a moment. "Get dressed so that we can get going. I want to make sure we have enough room for all of us."

"Yuri, don't be in such a hurry," Georgi gave him a smile. "Maybe Yuuri didn't want to come as he was waiting for a call from Viktor."

"… he can answer the phone in the restaurant as easily as he can sitting around here being useless," Yuri muttered, stalking around the room as if he owned it, pausing in front of the laptop and the notes that Yuuri had been making. "Huh, I just skate?" he glared at Yuuri. "Glad to see you do what the rest of us do, after all."

"… that's for a new program," Yuuri said with a blush, closing the laptop. He didn't need Yuri to see what he was like as a kid; he could only endure so many scathing comments in a day. He had been trying to see what others had seen in him as a teenager, why Minami had emulated his programs; why others had seen him with all the potential to get him a coach as exulted as Celestino was.

"Still," Yuri looked disappointed, but he poked a finger in Yuuri's chest. "Stop yapping and get ready. We don't have all night if we're going to be up early watching Viktor's stupid ice show."

Yuuri stopped in front of the bedroom door. "Why are you so concerned with me, Yuri?" he asked, watching him carefully. "You and the others didn't have to come—"

"It was weird without you there, stupid," Yuri muttered. "I didn't think you needed Viktor there to hold your hand outside the apartment" he smirked. "Be a man, katsudon. Face the scary Russians on your own without the old man in the way."

"And you can practice that cute Russian on the servers and get us a discount like before," Mila grinned, resting on the coach and Makkachin in her lap. She waved a hand at him. "Go on and look cute and we'll send pictures to Viktor so that he knows what he's missing."

Yuuri gave them all a real smile at that, hurrying into the room and letting the tension run out of his shoulders. It seemed that he wouldn't just spend the entire time in the apartment alone and from Yuri's comments, he wouldn't get much of his 'research' done, either—unless it was with someone by his side to make sure he didn't 'mope' his way through the week of Viktor's absence.

He couldn't wait to tell Viktor.


End file.
